


There's Some July in January

by 3x64



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff without Plot, Friends to Lovers, I have an essay due in 12 hours but I don't wanna even touch it, M/M, SO, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, here we are, honestly, that teeth rotting winter shit, this is pretty gay if you ask me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13741110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x64/pseuds/3x64
Summary: Winter is awful and Bucky is ready to move far away from any trace of snow, but, god dammit, Bucky will like the snow if it's the death of Steve.





	There's Some July in January

**Author's Note:**

> well jeez, i haven't written anything in, hoooo boy, years. so here we go kiddos, let's ramp this thing back up.

Bucky decided that New York winters were too fucking cold.

His jacket was zipped up to his chin, scarf wrapped around the bare parts of his skin that his Patagonia mercilessly left exposed to the frigid air. His toes were already falling off, one by one, turning into little ice cubes in his socks. Bucky’s mitten clad hands were shoved under his armpits in a feeble attempt to get any warmth back into his fingertips. It didn’t work, and he just ended up scowling at the icy steps on his front porch. The breeze picked up, a flurry of the snow swirling around them as the air vacuum sucked it inwards.The snow blanketed everything- thin, but pillowy- layering on top of cars, fences, and bare tree branches.

“I regret this, we’re going back inside,” Bucky said hastily, his shoulders shoved up to his ears. Steve had dragged him outside, whining about how the snow was too perfect to waste indoors. Plus, the neighbors had just put up their Christmas lights that morning, and Steve was a sucker for lights. Bucky watched as Steve rattled in the cold, seemingly unbothered as he tugged a soft knit hat down over his pale blond hair. Bucky’s street was calm, and all but silent this time of night, the small, comfortable little houses settled into the snow the way one settles into soft, velvet pajamas.

Steve yanked on his elbow, tugging him down the stairs as quick as he could without sending them both tumbling on the treacherous terrain. He made a mental note to buy salt next time they were out, otherwise it was going to be a long winter if Bucky was slipping up the steps every time he came home. “C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Steve asserted.

“It’s too late for this. And I’m gonna get frostbite.” Bucky tried to stand his ground, he really did, but Steve quite literally pulled him across the ice. He hoped the guy didn’t get any bright ideas to slap on a pair of ice skates and carve up and down their front walk. It was dark, just the street lamps and their porch light giving off a soft, orange glow. Bucky thought it accentuated Steve’s bone structure and the curve of his nose nicely, but no one had to know that.

“No you won’t, you’re just being a baby.”

“I’m not a baby, I’m a rational human being.”

“You’re being a baby.”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, well, you’re going to be the one paying my medical bill in an hour when my ears are purple and I can’t feel them anymore,” he grumbled, stumbling into the snow when Steve made a sharp turn into their yard.

Steve finally released his grip on Bucky’s arm, bending over to scoop up clumps of snow. “Should have worn a hat,” he said simply. He tried to ball the snow up, but most of it wasn’t wet enough and pieces just stuck to the yarn on his mittens. Bucky would have laughed at how sad he looked if he wasn’t so grumpy about being outside in the first place. Steve tried again and again, only to come up with crumbled snow piles. 

Bucky was smug.

He watched Steve run around to different parts of the yard, trying to find any snow that was better than the last section he tried, each time a complete failure. 

“Give up,” Bucky said, wanting nothing more than to go back inside. He stood, spine rigid as a pole, glowering at Steve in a silent refusal to participate in his antics. Steve glanced over for a second, eyes narrowed, then he got back to work. He was determined, Bucky had to give him that.

“You are such a grinch, you know that?” Steve’s voice was muffled under the wool scarf that had come loose around his neck and bunched up in front of his face instead. Bucky was fairly certain that Steve had knitted it himself.

“I’m rational. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“More than twice.”

Bucky huffed, his breath coming out in icy plumes. He dragged his all too freezing hands down his face, pulling his eyelids down ghoulishly. 

“Listen, let’s just go back inside and get some hot coco, then we can both be happy and the cold can stay outside where it bel-” he was cut off by a wad of snow being thrown his direction, nailing him right in the gut. Bucky’s hands flew out reflexively in an attempt to block the snowball, far too late. He slowly looked up at Steve, wide eyed, who was grinning ear to ear. He waved a soaked mitten in Bucky’s direction. Looked like Steve had found a successful pile, after all.

Bucky took off, slipping through the snow a bit. Steve hightailed it the other way, laughing as he ran. They went in circles, Bucky catching drifts and almost falling a few times. The air felt cold in his throat, and he was starting to get a little winded after a mere minute of chasing his ridiculously fit roommate. Finally, he launched, catching Steve’s ankle so that they both tumbled into the freezing sheet of snow. He found himself laughing, too, despite how much he absolutely despised the cold. Steve clawed at the ground, trying to wiggle himself free to no avail. Bucky had him in a vice grip, and he certainly didn’t intend to let go anytime soon. He was sure that there was snow somewhere in his pants and Bucky thought his boots had definitely been falsely advertised as cold repellent. Still, he heaved Steve’s body closer to him, trying to get a more secure grip. The snow was starting to seep into his clothes, but Bucky hardly noticed.

“Let go of me,” Steve laughed, kicking lightly in an attempt to weasel himself free. 

“This is what you get for forcing me to come outside,” Bucky snapped back. The neighborhood was quiet; the only noise for a mile was their boisterous, young laughter muffled against the snow. He clawed at Steve’s leg, inching closer and closer to a successful pin down.

Finally, Bucky had him, mittens latched onto Steve’s leg like an alligator’s jaw around its prey. Steve wheezed, his eyes squeezing shut from laughing too hard. Both their stomachs were tight from the threat of giggling hiccups. Bucky held Steve the best he could, considering all he had to work with was a glob of fingers and a thumb that had no traction. Steve weaseled around, managing to get his body turned, back pressed into snow. The powder stuck to tufts of blond hair that peaked out from under his hat, and Bucky blamed the dull street light for making him notice. Steve stopped cackling long enough to peak his eyes open against the iridescent, city sky.

For a heavy breath, the snow laden world was frozen. 

Steve looked up at Bucky, his body going limp under the weight pressing him into the ground. He looked at Bucky in a way that made his chest heavy, and suddenly he could only think of everything.

They weren’t laughing anymore. 

They stared at each other, perhaps too long. Bucky found that catching his breath was getting harder and harder by the second. Steve was under him, their bodies pressed together and, despite the countless amounts of layers they had piled on, Bucky had never felt closer to him. His elbows were pressed into the snow, chest barely touching Steve’s and neither of them even attempted to move.

“Hey,” Steve said quietly, his chest heaving with each labored breath. Maybe, just maybe, he was having just as hard of a time breathing as Bucky was.

“Hey,” Bucky responded, even softer. 

And Bucky didn't know what to do - knows what he _wanted_ to do - but that sudden pang of doubt and and dull panic ate away at his chest. Steve was there. Right there. All rosy cheeks and faultless like he is - like he’s always been. He’s a permanent fixture of stability in Bucky’s otherwise less-than-stable existence. 

Steve is looking up at him, exposed and anything but uncomfortable and there’s that spark of hope that pokes at his chest with every other feeling that leaves his stomach a muddled pile of confusion. 

Steve’s relinquishing, his body shifting minutely under Bucky’s. He holds his gaze for a long moment, wondering if it’s the moment, their moment. Then Steve cranes his neck and kisses him. Their teeth clack and their noses bump, and for the slightest second, everything is awkward. But Bucky realizes it’s the most natural thing in the world to lean further into Steve’s body. Like this was something they’ve always done. Bucky’s lips part against his easily, without hesitation. His mittens dig into the ground, holding him in place, and Steve fumbles blindly to hold onto Bucky with the infraction of mittens. Bucky’s entire world slows down, the time seeping into his skin, a steady, unwavering presence. His mind goes blessedly still, empty of anything except for the taste of Steve’s mouth, the icy bump of their noses, the stray thought that there’s a reason they’ve come to this moment.

Eventually, the cold trickles back in - the snow mused around their bodies like Monet had taken care to paint this scene. Bucky didn’t pull away from Steve, but he did allow for a breath between each kiss, then another, until slowly they drifted apart. Bucky pressed his forehead to Steve’s, their crystallized breaths visibly mingling in the frigid air.

Bucky opens his eyes to find Steve looking at him with the softest, sappiest expression his’s ever seen on his face, eyes bright and lips slick and pink. “Oh,”

“Yeah, _oh._ ” Steve laughed softly.

Bucky grinned, his chest blooming with a newfound appreciation for winter. They’d be okay, he thought. And then Bucky’s kissing him again and the snow doesn’t feel too cold anymore.


End file.
